*****

Spike didn't know whether to be annoyed, worried or amused that Angel turned him down.absolutely no, no way, never, not, on yer bike (well, that was Spike's interpretation of Angel's insistent, no - Angel had never managed the Albert Square lingo although he had tried in one or two games). Whatever, the answer was still no. He could not go as one of Xander Harris' crew.

Spike sat back down at the bar and eyed Harris over his drink. Didn't stop him playing with him a bit, though, did it? He continued to stare at Xander for a few days and was glad to see him depart for his decking job, hot, flustered, hard and very, very confused.

It was more than a month before Spike went to LA again. His car was playing up; Angel went out of town one weekend.always something. So, a month apart and nothing more interesting to relate than the fact that Spike had had to find out what a head gasket was.

Even Spike could not turn changing a cylinder head into a fun game to tell Angel. So he intended to give Angel a very hard time about the missed Harris opportunity, before he gave him a hard time in other ways.

He followed Angel as he went to make coffee and slid his arms around his waist, laying his cheek against Angel's back.

'So.what's with the Harris thing, Angel?'

'Nothing.'

'You jealous of me an' him then?'

'Hah.'

'You disgusted?'

'Nope.'

'You want 'im?'

'I'm not even going to reply to that, let go, I've got to fetch some milk.'

'I like it black.'

'Don't even go there, he's off limits too.'

'Ahh, Harris is off limits, is he? Fucking hell, you've had 'im already, haven't you?'

'Again, not having this conversation.'

Spike was utterly delighted now. It was like finding a pimple on your lover's back, an unpleasant flaw that draws you like a magnet and proves the very intimacy of your relationship. He continued to squeeze.

'Before you brought 'im to the school, you had 'im!'

'Err, I think he'd have been about sixteen then, Spike.'

'So?'

'That would have been illegal.'

'Are you taking the piss?'

'What do you think?'

'Okay, so why not? It would have been perfect, luv. Just the two of us, humping our big planks around.think of it. I'd have shown him all my best lumberjack moves.'

'It's too close to home, Spike. Like the saying goes, 'don't do it on your doorstep'.'

'What, fuck?'

'Well, no, actually it's shit, but same difference, I guess.'

'Um, scat as well.he might just have gone for that.'

To give Angel his due, he nearly choked on his coffee. 'You are utterly disgusting, Spike.'

Spike only wiggled his scarred eyebrow. 'New game?'

'NO! Physical impossibility and eww!'

'Okay, so Harris out, Watcher back in the game then?'

'I guess.'

Spike sat down opposite Angel at the table and put his bare feet on Angel's companionably. It really annoyed him when they didn't have the place to themselves and they had to be decent in case the strange waif-like creature that now inhabited the top floor darted in to apologise about something. Angel was trying to get Cordelia to encourage her to go out more. Tonight, was not a go out night apparently. Spike watched Angel for a while. Angel had been kind of quiet since Spike had arrived for his usual blitz of sex and presents. There had been no presents.an outrage Spike was saving up to use against Angel in case he needed a get-out-of-jail-free-card later on. But more importantly, there had been no sex.

Should he have put these the other way round? Sex, presents. Presents, sex. Hum. Right the first time.

Spike was not happy...and clearly Angel was not either.

'Come on, pet, what's wrong? Tell me.'

'I've just had a bad week, Spike. But that's not what this.' he waved his hand between the two of them, '.it's not what we are about. I don't want to think about work when you're here. I just want to think about.'

'Me?'

'Well, I was going to say sex, but I guess that's kind of one and the same thing.'

Spike grinned and began to work his foot up Angel's leg. 'But if you're distracted, you're obviously not thinking about me anyway and maybe forgetting to buy me a pressie.fess up, Angel. What's wrong.' Spike hated to play his trump card so early, but the occasion and Angel's sad face had called for it.

'Yeah, sorry about that. Go on the net tonight and I'll buy you something.'

'Don't try to distract me.what's up? Cus you clearly aren't.' As Spike now had his foot in Angel's lap he was on safe ground mentioning this.

Angel took a sip of his coffee and started playing with a small spill on the table, drawing in it with his finger. 'I had my body stolen.well, swapped and it was.'

'Stolen. Your body was stolen?' Spike was outraged, horrified, intrigued and disbelieving all at the same time. 'How? Who? What did they do? Fuck.where did you go.why didn't you call me?'

'Shut up! If you shut up, I'll tell you. An old man swapped his body with mine.he'd done it before and his victims all died, but he had my body for almost a day and a night and I couldn't contact you because I was attached to an incontinence pad and banned from using the telephone.'

Spike started to laugh. He couldn't help it. Angel was so funny sometimes. No one else would probably have seen this, but Spike found him to be an endless source of amusement.

'Let me guess. He did good.I mean bad stuff using you and now you feel all guilty.'

Angel seemed to shrivel a bit. He hated it that Spike knew him so well, but loved the intimacy it implied. 'It's not just that though.'

'What, luv?' Spike had by now started to use his foot judiciously in Angel's lap so Angel's reply wasn't as fulsome as it might otherwise have been.

'It was the endless peeing, Spike and I couldn't see anything and I felt sick and dizzy and I smelt. Oh God, Spike.I was just human and old and I suddenly realised.I don't want it all that much. You have no idea how good it felt to be in my body.'

Spike stopped his ministrations and just looked at Angel. Angel looked back, heard what he'd just said and delighted Spike by laughing for the first time that evening.

'That's more like it.'

'Sorry, I'm not good company tonight. Want to just go to bed.and sleep?'

Spike did. He could have sex wherever and whenever he wanted throughout the demon and quite a lot of the human community, but undressing, getting into bed, lying in the arms of a lover, falling asleep and feeling safe were all things he cherished about his new life with Angel.

They took their time undressing, watching each other, then slid into the cool sheets finding that perfect entanglement of limbs that left them wondering where they individually began and ended. Spike lay for hours listening to Angel not sleeping. He wondered whether to pursue the conversation. Angel was an intensely private person and Spike knew if he wanted to tell him, he would. He was pleased with his patience, therefore, when Angel said voluntarily, 'I don't think it's all over, yet.'

Spike sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees, he wanted Angel to know he was listening and taking this seriously.

'He didn't die.I went back and he hadn't died. He's disappeared.'

'That's.' Spike made a fifty, fifty guess, '.bad? That's bad, isn't it?'

'I think he may have had another stone. I crushed one, but I didn't check to see if he had another and now he's gone.'

'Oh, bloody hell.'

'Quite.'

'And.' Angel pulled Spike into his arms and almost crushed him, so tight was his embrace, '.I'm being followed. Have been for a few days now.'

'They must be good.'

'That's what I thought.'

'Demon? Human? Lawyer?'

'Indistinct. Human. I think.'

'Impossible. You could shake any human.'

'But they know where I live.I'm not exactly inconspicuous.'

Spike was really worried. Angel had just come back into his unlife, so he was not about to lose him now. But it made up his mind about something that had been nagging at him.

'Good time for a little holiday, wouldn't you say?'

'Ahh.you wouldn't happen to be thinking of a certain Spa town in England, would you?

'Might be.and is that a spark of life I see returning to the I'm-in-terminal-flaccid-shock-cus-I-got-an-airing-with-a-human-this-week Angel cock?'

'Turn over.'

'Subtle, always so.'

Spike always found it hard to speak when Angel's tongue first opened him up after any period of abstinence. Didn't matter how many times he'd felt that softness graze over his tight entrance, the first lick always undid him. Two of Angel's possessions meeting. He pushed the small of his back down as far as he could, lifting his ass for Angel's pleasure. Angel murmured his appreciation and knelt up behind Spike.

'No game?'

Spike turned his head on the pillow and put his hand back to Angel's, entwining their fingers. ''k, pet.'

Angel smiled and reached for some lotion, pouring it liberally over his penis, cupping his balls and swirling them in the cool liquid. He stayed working himself for a few minutes with one hand, his other hand playing with Spike's fingers. After a while he released Spike's hold and put his hand out to play with other interesting Spike parts. He pushed a slick finger into his hole and teased him; he cupped Spike's balls and ground them lightly together in their soft sac. Spike groaned and took his penis in a loose fist and began to pull it. He was delaying his pleasure, waiting for Angel. By the time Angel had worked three fingers into Spike they were both cresting near to their release. Angel could feel the thick vein in the underside of his erection throbbing. His balls became almost too sensitive to play with. He could see from Spike's expression that he was very near to coming and Angel wanted to be inside him when he did. He slid his fingers out and put the exposed tip of his erection against the loosened hole. He slid in easily and deeply. Spike arched down slightly more and Angel embedded himself against the hard bones of Spike's ass. Spike could feel Angel's wiry curls scratching at his skin, he felt Angel's sac swinging against him. But most of all he felt that stretch that took him over the edge of his orgasm. He came in a deep, satisfying spill over his hand. Angel heard his soft grunt of release and moaned with pleasure. He wrapped his arms around Spike's slim waist and hauled him up higher and tighter against him. Spike pushed back against Angel's cock as if to squeeze him out and was rewarded by a deep moan of pleasure from behind him. They started their familiar rhythm, Angel pushing in against Spike's resistance, Spike's clenching as he withdrew.

When Spike heard Angel's familiar low keening cry he started a quiet, hissed repetition he knew would drive Angel over the edge, 'fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.' Spike felt his stomach raked by Angel's nails, gasped with the delicious pain and shuddered as Angel jerked his orgasm into him. Angel rode Spike in short stabs as he milked the final few drops of his essence into the tight, receptive channel. When he was spent he sank back onto his knees and pulled Spike tightly to him, his cock softening deep within Spike's body. Spike brought his legs forward so he was sitting in Angel's lap. Angel's hands rested naturally on Spike's spent cock and he played gently with it, combing through his dark curls and drawing patterns in the seed coating Spike's chest.

A deep sense of contentment came over Angel. It was almost as if, buried deep in this body, his body seemed less vulnerable to the constant threats he had to face. Angel was tired of his life in LA. Spike had made him value his unlife more perhaps. He was getting more pleasure from it that he had ever remembered. He could not put into words what he felt about this creature that gave him so much intense pleasure and at the same time allowed him to enjoy so much pain. Spike was almost an orgasm incarnate for Angel. He chuckled quietly to himself when he thought this and Spike stirred from the almost trance-like state he had gone into watching Angel's hand play with him and feeling the cum leaking out of him around Angel's softening shaft.

'The poof speaks?'

'Just thinking about you.'

'How come you're still soft then?'

'Not all thoughts of you lead to a hard-on, Spike.' Angel laughed and buried his face in Spike's hair. They could both distinctly feel Angel's cock swelling again. He tightened his arms around Spike's waist and sighed deeply into the soft, blond locks.

'That's a sad sigh for someone who don't need to even make noises like that.' Spike took one of Angel's hands and put it back over his cock. Feeling Angel's cock rising in him had stimulated his soft swelling and made the blood rush to harden him. He made Angel's unresisting hand into a fist and got him started on some easy, gentle pulling. Every so often Angel stopped, distracted by his thoughts, but Spike was on watch for these lapses and put him right every time.

He thought it was time to move Angel's thoughts onto more pleasurable subjects, or at least to wind him up a bit so he didn't have time to brood. He wriggled a bit in Angel's lap, making Angel's groan with pleasure, then when Angel least expected it he said in an amused tone, 'do you think the boy would have liked top or bottom best?'

If this had been an attempt to annoy Angel, it backfired badly because Angel immediately said, 'bottom. Trust me, bottom.'

Spike flung himself off Angel's cock and turned to face him, mock horror plastered across his face. 'You bloody bastard, you have had 'im. All this time I've been working him, softening him up, driving him crazy, thinking I'd be fucking a first-time-freddie and you've been there before me.'

Angel just laughed and took over his own erection. Spike pouted for a while but finally did the same. They knelt face to face, each working their own cock. Angel twitched his eyebrows provocatively, keeping his gaze fixedly on Spike. Spike's pout turned to a grin and he did not drop his gaze.

'What was he like?' Spike still wasn't sure if he believed Angel or not. He had the distinct feeling that he was being played.

'Warm.'

'And?'

'Soft.'

'And?'

'Loud?'

'Oh, fuck you, was he?' This almost tipped Spike over the edge, he loved them to scream. He would have liked to hear Harris using his vocal chords for something more interesting than riding him. He suddenly had the thought that Angel knew this little preference of his only too well and again he felt he was on the blunt end of an Angel wind up.

'How come you didn't lose your soul.you're lying, aren't you?'

'I'd already lost it with Buffy.'

'Oh. Where were you?' Spike decided to probe this suspicious shag a bit closer.

'Over a car hood.'

'Oh, bloody hell!' One of Spike's favourite positions, especially if the engine was hot. Nothing like being warmed from both sides. 'What did you use?'

'Choc.' Angel tired to get the word out but spluttered and started laughing at Spike's furious face. He tried again. 'I took him over a car hood, riding on chocolate and he screamed like a stuck.' no good. Angel totally lost it. He fell on his side, tried to get up, but couldn't. Every time he looked at Spike's incensed face he cracked up again. He was so unused to laughing it quite overpowered him.

Spike threw himself on Angel, took Angel's wrists and pinned them to the bed, totally preventing Angel continuing with his satisfying wank. He had to stop too, but it was a small sacrifice to make.

'You're bloody lying. That's all my favourite stuff. No way would you use chocolate. It'd get on your poofy clothes.'

'Well, we showered well afterwards.' Angel was almost beginning to believe his own fantasy. It may have had something to do with the fact he had been incredibly close to coming and was now in a sort of half-cum, half-not-cum limbo. Just watching Spike's face made him even harder.

'You said he was only sixteen, so you're bullshitting me, Angel.'

'Well, I'd relate all the details of why a sixteen-year-old ass is so memorable, Spike, but I'm allergic to flames.' This cryptic comment was totally lost on Spike, but then he was concentrating on the image of Harris' ass coated in chocolate. Hardening chocolate that had to be licked off. Chocolate with long lick marks through it, trails of licks leading to.

'He screamed your name, when he came.' Angel had gone too far and he knew it when he saw Spike's face crease up with the knowledge he'd won the game. Spike fell off Angel chortling to himself.

'Don't try to out-piss me, Angel. I'll beat you every time.'

'Yeah, well. Had you going for a minute there.'

'If you weren't so anal, we'd have been enjoying a Harris game for real now.'

'Do you think he'd have gone for vampire sandwich?' Angel turned his face and grinned at Spike. They knew they were both thinking about a far more interesting filling to that sandwich than Xander Harris.

Giles had not had a good month either.

He was not an emotional man, had always rather prided himself on being calm, reserved and very English. This, of course, given he had had little competition for reserved and mature from the emotional American teenagers he had recently lived with. He did not like to be ruffled. He did not like his ordered life being threatened. Spike's visit had ruffled and threatened him a great deal more than he had at first realised.

His desperate search for that elusive, cold cock had come to an abrupt end one day in the public lavatories of the Cathedral Close. Bending one slim, pale body over the toilet bowl he had seen something clutched in a small hand.

`What's that?'

`Nuffink.'

`Show me.'

`It's me fucking Jubilee Medal, that's all, tosser. Got it in school today.'

Giles' head had hit the locked door, so violently had he reared back from that reply.

`How old are you?'

`I'm young, honest, mate.'

`No...no...I don't want you young...that's not what I meant...oh, God, no.'

He stumbled form the urine-splashed stall and leant over the sink afraid he would heave. When he lifted his head he did not recognise the face that peered back at him. Rupert Giles was gone and in his place was nothing more than a loathsome creature.

Everything he had always valued in himself: his decency, his honesty, his desire to do right, his morality, they had all been swept away and now he had nothing left but a loathsome old man who had nearly fucked a school boy.

Giles had gone sadly back to his now-hated flat. He had gone into that bedroom for the first time in two weeks. He had not changed the sheets; he had not even picked up his discarded pyjama top. It still lay on the floor where Spike had thrown it.

Loathsome.

What had he done? What had he allowed to be done to him in this bed? He sat on the edge and ran his fingers over the encrustation. He had a demon's old cum under his hand. It was beyond belief that he had sunk so low.

Loathsome.

And what had he thought as he'd lain with Spike? What awful, disgusting things had he thought about Buffy? His precious Slayer, more beloved than he had words to express. Sullied. Had Spike somehow tricked those thoughts out of him? His memories of her were ruined.

Loathsome.

Giles went into the bathroom and looked again in a mirror. He took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes to the pain he felt, hoping that tears would not come.

Inevitably, they did.

He had cried a lot since Spike left.

Loathsome.

Because for all his disgust and anger, paramount these last two weeks had been desire.

His body desired Spike more than it needed air to breathe and that was the worst thought of all.

So Giles' anger had started to grow. From the tiny seed that was a medal clasped in a not-so-innocent hand, Giles' anger grew strong, reaching up, towering over him and casting him in its deep shade.

One day Giles rose from yet another sleepless night and realised his anger was now strong enough to make a very sure and solid structure that he could climb to find his revenge.

He had a plan. It was dangerous, expensive, time-consuming and complex, but he fed all such doubts to the bonfire of his anger and warmed himself in their flames. Two weeks later, when his plan was set in motion better than he could have hoped for, he returned to his flat calmer than he had been since he had walked into his kitchen and found Spike fully dressed, bags packed and leaving him.

All he had to do now was wait for them.

If they came.

He hoped they would.

Giles had been carrying Spike around in his head the whole time since that tantalising farewell at the train station, so he was not surprised a few days later to sense that Spike was watching him. Spike had been his daytime companion. Whatever he had been doing, he had imagined Spike there doing it with him. It was a sad reflection of his lonely childhood and sometimes made him feel as if he were trapped in a sick parody of the Hundred Acre Wood. He sat in pubs sharing a pint with Spike. He had heard Spike laugh at his clever, dry wit. He had allowed this fantasy Spike to be more real and more pleasurable than human company.

So one evening when he heard Spike's quiet laugh for real, he had not turned in shock at the sound. He had waited a moment and then turned, but there had been no one there. When standing at the bar later to buy a drink, pressed against the wood by the crush trying to attract the girl's attention, he had felt a slim, cold body pressed against his. This time he had turned more quickly, but again, there was no one there. He started to feel watched. When he went to pee and had taken a moment in the quiet stall to press tired hands to tired eyes, he had smelt a familiar brand of cigarette smoke drifting from the stall next to his. When he came down to his car one morning he found a neat pile of cigarette ends lying in the gutter, as if someone had stood smoking looking up at his bedroom window for a long time.

Giles looked down at this first tangible evidence of Spike's presence and smiled. He had hidden the smile quickly lest the hunters saw that they were, in fact, the hunted.

Giles bided his time. They would come to him.

The city continued to swell with the influx of people in for the three-day, Bank Holiday, drinking spree. Jubilee fervour hit the residents of this ancient city. Giles went out into the warm June night and strolled toward his favourite pub. He had been keeping familiar routines recently. He was his own bait in a tempting trap.

The pub was packed; it was good night for reunions.

He was not surprised, therefore, to look up from the bar where he had propped himself, to a raised section of the pub to see Spike standing looking at him. Angel stood close behind him, also looking at him.

He was shocked, however, when he realised what they were doing. Spike was gripping the top of the partition that surrounded this small raised area. Angel had his hands over Spike's and they were both making imperceptible movements as Angel, quite evidently, rode into Spike, his actions concealed by their long leather coats.

Giles felt a frisson of fear and anticipation trickle down his spine.

This was too blatant, too unheeding of any civilised conventions. Then Giles realised that that was exactly why they were doing it. Because they could. Because they were dead and life was just a sham, just a game and they were only tricks of the light given form by stolen blood.

It was a declaration of independence, an up-yours to the human world.

Angel rested his chin on Spike's shoulder. Spike put his arm up to caress him. Angel's eyes were lifted to Giles in a mockery of supplication. Spike only grinned at him, his eyes half closed in pleasure.

Giles looked around at the heaving pub. Did no one else see it? But, of course, no one else could see it. It was too extreme, too beyond their expectations. All they saw was two striking, young men, standing too close together. It was very un-English behaviour and best ignored.

Angel kept Giles' eye contact even as he came. All he allowed himself was one long blink and a slight raise of his head.

Spike continued to grin at Giles and actually licked his lips as Angel pumped him with his cold seed.

With a last smile at Giles, Angel slipped his hands out of sight, perhaps pulling Spike's jeans up, perhaps readjusting himself, then he stepped back and their long dusters fell into place.

Giles did not see them leave. They seemed to dissolve into the smoke and noise of the crowd.

He did not know what emotion they had intended to arouse in him by this display of their power.

He suspected it was not glee.

He went home, made his final preparations and lay a long night through thinking about the way Angel's hands had lain on Spike's in that intimate, familiar way and how they had lain on him causing him more pain and humiliation than he had ever experienced in his life. He thought about how Spike had taken Angel's cum as if it were his privilege and right but how he had tricked Giles into giving him his.

He laughed to himself.

He was going to enjoy this.

They were there again the following night. This time, Angel stood alongside Spike until he had Giles' attention. Once they knew Giles was watching Angel blatantly went behind Spike and slid his hands out of sight again. Giles was made to watch the slow entry. He saw Angel's face crease in unmistakable pleasure, knew that they wanted him to remember what it was to enter that tight, cold channel. He studied Spike's face; saw again that cheeky grin and rise of those oh, so seductive eyebrows. Unbelievably he felt himself stiffen to their display. He turned away so they would not see his smile.

He turned away so they would not see him place a call on his mobile.

When all was ready he turned back to enjoy the show.

Angel groaned lightly into the back of Spike's head. They had showered together before they had come out and the soft, blond spikes had that delicious wet hair smell. He rubbed his face in it for a moment before looking back at Giles.

Angel felt liberated and energised by this game. Los Angeles was a very long way away, and not just in a literal, spatial sense. He had not been in this country since he had been Angelus, the Scourge of Europe. He had not heard these accents or smelt these familiar smells for a very long time. Everyone here spoke like Spike, well, as close to Spike's accent as Angel was able to distinguish, and he found that very, very erotic. He had been permanently hard since they had arrived, not only from this, but from anticipation of the game.

`He's looking different.'

Spike's words startled him out of his revere. `What?' He shifted position slightly and felt his penis gain an extra inch of Spike's tight passage. It was not the best position for entering his childe, the clothes restricted him and he was not unmindful of the fact that they were surrounded by hundreds of drunken Englishmen, but he was enjoying it nevertheless.

`He looks pleased about something. Look at `im.' Spike nodded his head slightly towards Giles who was leaning nonchalantly on the bar, looking at them. Suddenly, he saw Giles collapse forward. He clutched at his chest as if suffering a heart attack. He fell to the floor, striking his temple on the corner of the bar. Immediately he was surrounded by concerned, but unhelpful people trying to lift him and give him more space.

`Fuck. Look. He's gone down.'

Angel put his hands on top of Spike's on the rail and increased his thrusting slightly, as if this display of Giles' weakness stiffened him. They watched together as two men in ambulance uniform came in and bent to check Giles' pulse. The crowd cleared around him, he was put on a stretcher and carried toward the door. He came to for a minute and looked around as if shocked and disoriented by his fall.

Spike saw him look directly at him, Giles raised his hand as if to try and reach out to him across the crowed floor and then he was gone.

`Oh. That's a bit of a bummer then, isn't it?'

Angel did not reply, but he nuzzled into Spike's ear and started a low groaning.

`You can stop now, luv, if you want. He's gone. Not much point. Come on, we'll go back and shag in comfort, hey?' Spike tried to push Angel off him, but he was too close to orgasm. He came with a deep shudder, his fingers crushing Spike's hands under him. `Ow, fuck, Angel. Let go you bloody bully. That's me wanking hand you're crushing there.'

Angel mumbled a quiet `sorry' and let go, watching as Spike shook the offending hand and rubbed it childishly.

Angel stood up and tried to readjust their clothing. He did not do a very good job and one or two of the punters standing near them realised, with a shock, what they had been doing. One burly, tattooed man sneered at them, `bloody faggots, fuck off to your own place.'

Angel whirled around and punched him in the face. The man's nose spread out like beefsteak, his teeth punched in leaving bleeding, gapping holes. They ran to the sounds of his blood-choked screams.

Spike was incensed. `Angel! What the bleeding hell are you doing? You can't go around punching people, even a fat geezer with bad tattoos like that.'

Angel was laughing hysterically and increased his speed.

Spike kept up with him effortlessly, but tried to catch his arm. `Fuck, Angel. Slow down, you're attracting attention going this fast.'

Angel slowed to walking and grabbed Spike. He kissed him passionately.

Spike pushed him off and gave him a rueful grin. `Okay, I'm gonna let you shag me in pubs again, mate. Liking the new Angel.'

Angel spoke for the first time since coming in Spike. He took Spike's face in his hands and said quietly, `take me back to the hotel, now.'

Spike laughed and cupped Angel's quite noticeable bulge. `You planning on using this on me then?'

Angel laughed. `All night, all day and all tomorrow night.' He pushed Spike along the pavement. `Go. Now.'

`Being here really agrees with you, Angel. Knew you needed a break from that lousy city.'

`Oh yes, I feel quite invigorated, quite unlike my self. I can't think why.' Angel grinned and stretched his arms out in a lazy display of his power.

Spike looked at him. This was not the Angel he had come to know and deride.

Which was funny really, as somewhere in an ambulance, a middle-aged man called Rupert Giles was being restrained by two men as he fought against them. He was vehemently denying his identity too.

It didn't matter how much he struggled against them, they were stronger than him.

They didn't much like having a crazy drunk on board who claimed to be an Angel.

*****
Part 2:

To be fair to Giles, he had not intended to crush Spike's fingers until they broke, or to display the fag-basher's nose across his face. He had had absolutely no idea of Angel's power and strength. He had not realised that Angel had been restrained when he had tortured him almost to death. Knowing the strength in these hands and arms now, he realised that Angel had touched him as one would piece of Chinese rice paper, with delicate care and caution, in case it irrevocably tore. That Angel had made the torture last so long was a testament to his restraint.

He walked alongside Spike hearing the stars. He felt the moonlight on his face. He saw into the hearts of the humans that passed him, each one's petty secrets laid out for his perusal. That man had not had sex for many years. That one had just eaten a curry and would soon be sick. That one had had sex with his daughter, their shared DNA loud on his body.

He turned to Spike. He had thought Spike seductive. He had thought him handsome. Now with Angel's vision, he saw him as a mythical creature of power and dark light. He could smell Spike's strength. He could hear Spike's thoughts, faintly, like you hear distant traffic. He could feel the way the night air moved out of Spike's way as he walked, bowing to his superiority.

Giles laughed, he couldn't help it. He had taken Angel's body, he had taken Angel's eternal life and in taking both those, he had taken Spike. And he would not have him now for only one night. Spike would not pack his bags and leave. Spike would not seduce, tease, control and destroy him now...the very opposite in fact. That's exactly what Giles intended to do to Spike.

He followed Spike back to the hotel and was impressed by it's elegance. He followed him up to the suite they shared. He watched as Spike shed his duster and went out on the balcony to smoke. Spike leant up against the rail watching Giles for a while.

'You're quiet.'

Giles didn't trust himself to speak. He wanted to take the cigarette and stub it out on Spike's skin; he wanted to hear him howl. He wanted to see him cry. More than anything, Giles wanted to see Spike cry and see if his tears were the same as the ones he had been shedding for the last month.

Spike threw his cigarette out into the night air and came up to Giles. He put his arms under his duster and just laid his head on Giles' chest.

'I hope the Watcher's okay. Do you think we could find out where they've taken 'im and call or something?'

'Why do you care?' Giles was amazed that he spoke with Angel's voice; it made him feel sick and disoriented.

Spike raised his head, stepped away from Giles, stripped off his tee shirt and threw it carelessly onto the floor. 'Don't start on that again, Angel. I told you, he was.' Spike turned and gave Giles a cheeky look. '.he was morish.'

'Morish?'

'Yeah, come on, Angel. You remember, like chocolate or peanuts. Morish. Once you've had one, you want another and another and then some more 'til you're sick. Well, that's what he was like. I wanna be sick.'

'You want to be sick on.on the Watcher?'

'Angel, what's wrong with you? It's like taking to a bleeding dummy. Duh! No! I don't want to be sick on him; I want to have him enough so I'm full of 'im, that's all.'

'So it wasn't all a lie? You really enjoyed sleeping with.Rupert Giles?'

'Oooh, sleeping with! I'm gonna have to get you out of Bath, pet. Take you to fucking Sunderland. You've become a little bit too posh here, mate. Yeah, I loved fucking Giles, I told you that.'

'What are you doing?'

'What does it look like I'm bleeding doing? I'm warming up some food.'

'Oh. Is that for me?'

'No, it's for the spaziod I seem to have come back from the pub with. Here you go.' Spike handed Giles a mug of hot blood. It was fascinating. His rational mind said, 'if I even smell that I'm going to be sick' whereas his body seemed to plunge into the liquid and find its home there.

He took a sip. Rational mind won over for a minute. He took deep breaths but couldn't quite get the breathing muscles to work and ended up sounding as if he had run a marathon. He stopped breathing and realised for the first time that he had not been breathing at all since taking over this body. He had never even noticed.

Spike was watching him with a suspicious look on his face. 'You pillock, Angel. I go to all this effort to treat you to human blood and you're going all broody and guilty on me.hey, where you going, pet?'

Giles ran for the bathroom and made it to the toilet bowl just in time to see a huge heave of red liquid shoot out of his mouth. He had thought the fresh blood in the mug was sickening enough, he had no idea just how bad puked up blood from a vampire's stomach could be. He retched and retched and retched until he felt almost weak from nausea and the whole time his body screamed at him and wanted to lick that splattered blood from the porcelain.

He heard Spike come in behind him and felt a cool hand on his forehead. He took the wet cloth that Spike wordlessly handed him and sat back against the bathtub. Spike crouched down in front of him, his head tipped on one side. Then Spike stretched out his hand, clearly expecting Giles to take it. So he did, he stretched out his hand and took Spike's fingers in his. He actually felt a physical jolt of desire deep in his belly at this lightest of touches. Spike pulled him to his feet and led him back to the bedroom.

He sat Giles down on the bed and squatted in front of him, a worried look on his face. `You okay? I've never seen you be sick before...well, not since you ate that guy with leprosy once. I can still see your face when his nose fell off as you bit `im.'

If this comment was supposed to be comforting, it didn't really work on Giles. He started feeling nauseous again, knew it was all in his mind, so forced it down.

Spike got up and sat behind him on the bed. He started to massage Giles' shoulders and rub his thumbs into his hairline. Giles felt stiff and on-guard. He felt acutely that this was not his body and thought that Spike must feel it too. Apparently he did not because he leant down and started to nuzzle into Giles neck, placing light, erotic kisses across the exposed flesh.

Giles was more confused than he thought it possible to be. This was not how he had imagined the vampires' relationship would be. This is not what he had been led to believe it would be from all his Council research. This was not insane, blood-lust sex. This was not perversion and evil. These were loving, soft kisses. This was someone relaxed and in love. This was Spike and he seemed laid bare and vulnerable.

Giles glanced at Angel's watch and realised how much time had passed since he had affected the swap.

Spike had now started to undress him slowly, but as much as Giles wanted him to continue, he stopped Spike's hand.

'Not now. We're leaving.'

'What! What do you mean, Angel?'

'We're leaving the city. I've got.I want to go somewhere else.'

'Err.new game?'

Giles didn't understand this, but ventured a hesitant reply, 'yes, new game.' He was pleased when Spike climbed off the bed, pulled his tee shirt back on and started to stuff clothes into bags.

Giles did not know how long it would take Angel to convince the hospital that he was sane enough and well enough to be released, but knowing Angel, he did not think it would take long. He knew exactly where Angel would come first and he wanted to be well away before he did. He had left no money in his clothes, no wallet, no keys, nothing that Angel could use to his advantage. Unless he hitched, he would have to walk from the hospital. Giles had worn his very stiff and very uncomfortable shoes that evening. He grinned to himself imagining Angel having his first blisters in three hundred years.

'Come on then, poof. I'm ready, where're we going?'

Giles led Spike slowly though the city to where he had parked the hire car. He had the feeling that any minute he would see his shabby, faded body limp around a corner and hail them. He was amazed that Spike acquiesced so easily to this change of plan. He filed away the phrase, 'new game' for future use. It seemed to make Spike docile, willing to be led and silent. Giles liked Spike docile, willing to be led and silent. It was rather novel.

Giles suddenly had one of those revelatory moments that make you stand still for a minute. In all his planning he had thought only of himself, only of 'Rupert Giles' and Spike. He had taken Angel's body only to give him physical power over Spike. It had not really occurred to him that now he was Angel. As far as Spike was concerned, he was his sire, Angel. He had psychological power over Spike, too. Spike would be willing, docile and silent if he was told to be those things.

Giles decided to try out his new power. 'Carry this bag, Spike.'

'Fuck you.'

'Err, Spike, I said carry my bag for me.'

Spike stopped and stared at Giles, his jaw visibly hanging open. 'You what? You fat-ass-poncy-fag-hag-wanking-fucking-nancy-boy-shit-stacker. How fucking dare you.'

This was not quite how Giles had imagined vampire sires were treated by their childer. He tried again. 'New game...carry my bag?'

Spike tipped his head back and laughed. 'Yeah, new game you suck my dick, new game. Pillock. Where's this car then?'

Giles gave up and decided to save the psychological mastery of Spike until he gained physical mastery of him. That would not be long now.

Spike sat complacently in the front seat. It was clear to Giles that he completely trusted him. It sent a delicious tingle down his spine to his unbelievably hard cock. He had never had an erection like this one as a human. As if reading his thoughts, Spike suddenly snaked out a hand and put it on the front of Angel's leather jeans. Giles was amazed by the casual way he did it, as if he did this all the time and it was completely natural. With a rueful smile at his naivety, Giles realised that Spike probably did do this all the time.

Spike slipped his hand inside the pants and scratched a fingernail over the soft tip of Giles' cock. He gasped and swerved the car a little.

'I was going to say how much your bloody driving had improved since yesterday, pet. But now I'm not so sure. No points for hitting rabbits. They're too easy. Remember, prams maximum score, rabbits bottom. Or maybe hedgehogs. What do you reckon?'

Giles couldn't speak because Spike had now released him completely from his pants and was working him determinedly with his fist.

Spike kept up a casual conversation the whole time he brought Giles off. He chatted about the car, he commented on the road, he asked where they were going, he told a few jokes, he sang along to the radio and he abused his sire in colourful, explicit language.

This was exactly the companion that Giles had made up in his head. This was the Spike of their first night, when they had gone to the pub and Spike had played darts. This was the Spike that had really seduced him. Not the one who had sucked him, entered him and left him. This one. The one who was funny, engaging and irresistible.

He did not speak at all until he felt a swelling in his balls like a surge behind a dam. He thought he might burst. He managed to gasp; 'mess' just before Spike's head came down on him and swallowed the entire flood of cum that this amazing vampire body produced. With a frisson of excitement, Giles realised that Spike had timed that move to perfection. That he had known just as clearly as Giles had done, exactly when he was going to come. The intimacy this implied between Angel and his childe made Giles confused and envious.

All of this unnerved Giles. Literally. He felt his nerve going. This was not what he had planned when he had flown to LA and started following and watching Angel. He had only meant to find a way to hurt them both and to destroy their power over people. Finding the old man and sharing his knowledge had been a bonus.

Then he had meant only to swap bodies with Angel and use Angel's power against Spike. He had wanted to see Spike's face when, after days of torture and pain, thinking that Angel had turned against him, Spike realised that he had been played. Giles wanted to see if Spike had reserves of strength to draw upon, as he had been required to do. This whole experience, however, had started to badly unnerve him.

Spike's assertion at the station that he wanted him had been confirmed. Giles had thought it a lie, but Spike had confirmed it this evening. Morish, he was morish, apparently, like chocolate.

Spike and Angel together were quite unlike Giles had imagined them to be. Spike was relaxed, charming and funny. He was everything Giles wanted and envied Angel for having. Giles began to wonder if he really wanted to chain Spike up and torture him. He began to doubt that he wanted to destroy him. He almost began to feel that he would rather hold him, kiss him and enter him.and now, of course, he had Angel's body to do that with. No more weak erections that surprised him every time they stayed hard enough to penetrate tight holes. He was hard already only minutes after a vast, satisfying release and he felt that this was norm for Angel's body.

So, Giles' plans changed dramatically as he drove towards his destination. He had not planned much beyond a final, ritual staking of the bleeding, crying, despairing Spike.

Now he began to wonder what living in LA would be like.

He wondered if he could carry it off. If he could fool Spike, then maybe he could fool others less intimately acquainted with Angel. Spike seemed totally unaware of any change. Giles blessed Angel's naturally taciturn nature. He doubted anyone could take over Spike's body and get away with it.

He laughed suddenly and Spike looked up from the map he had been studying intently.

'What's up? We nearly there yet? I'm bored with this game,'

Giles indicated on the map. 'There. That's where we're going.'

Spike peered and turned the map upside-down to see if that helped. 'Err.that's the sea, Angel.'

'Exactly.'

After another hour they pulled up outside an isolated cottage on the edge of a small, shingle beach. Spike got out of the car and looked around at the loneliness of their location.

'Okay, this game's getting a bit spooky now, Angel. Not liking this much. Where's the friggin' shops and the pubs?'

'Trust me.' Giles missed the withering look thrown in his direction. He opened up the cottage and went in to see if all the supplies he had ordered had been arranged. He had never realised how useful being a Council member could be.

Spike did not come in after him. When Giles went to check, there was no sign of him. He looked anxiously around, searched the obvious places and then went back into the house. He was extremely relieved a few minutes later when Spike came and stood in the doorway.

'Where have you been?'

'Went for a pee.'

It was only later on that evening that Giles realised he had been expected to laugh at this, that this was what went for a joke in the vampire community.

'Well?' Spike stood and stared at him.

'Well what?'

Spike tipped his head on one side as if studying him. 'Invite me in, why don't you.'

Giles cursed under his breath. 'Yes, of course. Come in.' He hoped that Spike would assume that Angel's body had already been invited in by the owner of this cottage when he rented it. He would have to be more careful.

Spike sauntered in and started rummaging around.

Giles thought about the spell he had prepared.a reverse, vampire exclusion spell. He had planned this moment. Get Spike inside and trap him. He almost said the words, but Spike suddenly turned and grabbed him and kissed him deeply. He pushed him backwards over the kitchen table. He lifted his thigh to rub it over Giles' groin. He started to lick the inside of Giles' mouth. He moved his hands under Giles' shirt and tweaked the nipples of his chest.

None of this was at all like the kisses Spike had given to Giles' human self. This was entirely different. Then he had seemed to be trying to prove something. Now, he kissed softly and intimately, now he kissed like a familiar lover. Giles could have cried from the intimacy of this kiss.

Spike pulled away, stripped off his tee shirt and raised an eyebrow at Giles then suddenly said, 'swim?'

'What?' Giles could not help but respond with the reaction of a middle-aged, English man.

'Swim, luv. You, me, water, moonlight, alone, erections, ex-erections? Last one in's a poof.'

Spike began to tear at the laces in his boots. He cursed, hopping around the kitchen trying to rip them off. Giles started to laugh.

He was having fun.

He had wanted screaming and blood and pain and revenge.but he was having fun.

He slipped effortlessly out of Angel's shoes and clothes and ran out into the night hollering and laughing at the moon. He didn't feel cold. He didn't feel pain as he ran barefoot over the sharp shingle. Okay, he felt the intense cold of the Atlantic as he plunged through the surf and swam out into the deep, still ocean, but the pain did not last long.

He turned on his back and watched the moon. This was utterly surreal. He felt almost like a God.like a master of the universe. No wonder these vampires sometimes appeared arrogant. He felt as superior to his human self, as that self had felt superior to a tiny child. Such power, such strength, such.ugg. He was rudely dragged under the dark, silent water. He panicked as any human would until his body reminded him that he didn't need to breathe.

He relaxed in Spike's arms, felt Spike diving between his legs then surfaced and screamed out his delight to the night sky. He screamed another way when he felt Spike swallowing his erection. Giles hung straight down in the water and Spike fastened onto him like a pale, blond barnacle. It didn't take long. The combination of the moonlight, the heady sense of power and the freedom he felt sent another load of cum into Spike. Giles wondered how many times these two vampires indulged themselves like this. He had a feeling he was only beginning to understand the sexual power he now possessed.

Spike surfaced, grinning at him, then turned on his back and starfished his limbs to the night sky.

'Wish Giles was here.'

'What!' Giles started a nervous doggy paddle around in a far too uman way.

'This is just the sort of place he'd like. I bet if he owned a cottage, it'd be like this. Such a contrast to Sunnydale and I guess that's what he'd want now.to forget. To rest.'

'Spike, you know nothing about him. You never gave him the time of day in Sunnydale. What's this new-found interest in m.Giles all of a sudden?'

'That's not true, Angel and you know it. I could have killed him loads of times if I'd have wanted to, before I had this bloody chip. But he was okay, Angel. You were just jealous of him.'

'Jealous! Don't be ridiculous, what could.what could I possibly be jealous of him about?'

Spike turned over and started to swim slowly towards the shore. Giles swam alongside him. 'She loved Giles much more that she ever loved you, and you knew it.'

'Shut up.' Giles could not bear to hear this of Buffy. He did not want to hear Spike's twisted version of their relationship. He had sullied that memory enough himself.

'What's wrong, Angel.not like that, you pillock.she loved your dick.but she loved him like a father. She adored him. She needed him.'

Giles felt tears prick his eyes. When had he ever noticed Spike being perceptive? When had he noticed Spike being kind? He thought perhaps he had always noticed these qualities but he had ignored them because they did not fit in with the view he needed to have of this evil creature.

As they emerged from the surf and started walking together up the beach, Spike put his arm over Giles' shoulder in a friendly gesture. 'Giles was the only one who would help me, Angel, when I had this chip. He should have staked me. It was his job and what I deserved, I guess. But he didn't, he took me in, fed me, let me watch his TV, looked after me. Hell, he put up with me.and I wasn't the pleasant, easy-going bloke I am now.'

Giles found himself actually feeling guilty now. This was NOT what he had intended at all. He tried to regain some ground. Tried to remind himself what he had done all this for. He spat back, bitterly, 'if you like him so much, why did you take such trouble to destroy his life last month?'

Spike took hold of his arm, stopping him. He gave him a quizzical look. 'Destroy?'

'Well, he may have seen it like that. Isn't that what you intended?'

'Err, seems I remember a certain poofy, hair-gelled, vampire betting me fifty pounds I couldn't seduce a certain Rupert Giles. Don't remember it being my idea at all.'

'You were the one who came here and fucked him, though.'

'I made love to him, Angel. I told you that. At first.okay.I sucked and fucked him.at first. But not at the end. When I felt him wake up on me I could have held him to me and made him mine. I really wanted to, Angel, but you said I had to piss him around like that.'

Giles was completely overwhelmed by this heartfelt speech from Spike. As he had no knowledge of Angel's part in the scheme, he was at a loss how to answer. One thing he did know, though, the words of that entrapment spell were fading from his mind with every word Spike spoke.

He tried to picture that small medal clasped in those young fingers, tried to shore up his anger and hatred, but looking at Spike now, he knew he could not. He did not hate Spike. He did not hate him at all.

He gave in to his desire and pulled Spike into his arms. 'Let's not fight over the Watcher, hey?' He kissed Spike, tasted the salt on his lips, tasted another salty essence on the walls of his mouth and groaned into the kiss. 'Want to warm up a bit?'

Spike laughed and stared to pull away. 'Race you to the shower!'

It seemed to Giles that Spike almost flew up the beach toward the cottage. He laughed and stared to run, too. He caught him up and tried to tackle him down. They wrestled and Giles felt Spike's strength under him. He wanted to put Angel's body to the test, but not in the tortures he had planned and prepared. He wanted to test this superb, beautiful body in other ways now. He gave Spike a violent, passionate kiss then punched him lightly in the belly and jumped up and ran first through the door.

His glee at winning was too much for a vampire that must be used to winning every physical contest he had ever been in, so he tried to calm down before Spike joined him. They made their way up to the bathroom and Giles broke the news to Spike that, being England and quaint, the cottage had no shower.

Spike didn't seem to mind. He seemed entranced by the huge, Victorian bath that stood in the middle of the room, raised up on claw feet that had reminded Giles of the claws on gargoyles. It was one of the reasons he had bought this monstrosity from the architectural salvagers in Bath.

Giles turned on the taps and filled the bath with scalding hot water and poured in a selection of oils. When he had bought this cottage he had had vague notions of romantic weekends with a nice girl who would like walks on the beach and reading in the evening. Once or twice he had pictured that featureless girl taking a bath in this room whilst he lay waiting for her in the bed. It was a chaste, romantic fantasy. One that now made him smile.

Spike climbed into the water, cursing at the temperature. He leant forward and Giles realised he was supposed to slide in behind him. Again, the intimacy and familiarity this implied between these two vicious demons quite took his breath away. Breath he no longer had and had quite forgotten to miss.

He took the invitation and slid in behind Spike. He had never, ever shared a bath with anyone before. Spike laid his head back on Giles' chest and passed him a bottle of shampoo. Giles realised with a smile of pleasure that he was supposed to wash Spike's hair for him. He had never, ever washed anyone's hair before either.

He laughed quietly at the thought that he was now taking a bath and washing Spike's hair when he had planned to be beating, whipping and tearing him. He could not say that he was too worried by the change.

Spike played quietly with the washcloth, tying it into knots, making it float then sinking it with pretend missiles. Giles massaged the shampoo in and rinsed it out a few times. Spike's quiet words caught him off-guard. 'So, pet, when do the games begin?'

'The games?'

Spike twisted around to look at him. 'Yeah, the games, you said new game.well?'

'Does everything have to be a game between us?'

Spike looked puzzled. 'It can be whatever you want it to be, Angel. You know that. I'm not the one who needs them, remember?'

'Why do I need them?'

Spike was quiet for a moment and Giles thought he would not answer, but he suddenly said in a sad voice, 'no one could understand, could they, Angel? What it's like for us. In these bodies.such power and such desires, but neutered. How could anyone else understand that unless they'd been human like us and then found themselves in such a body?'

Giles thought this answered his question quite effectively. He began to see Angel in a new light, too. He lifted one hand and looked at it. He knew he could crush a human to death with those fingers. He looked at the forearm.what power it contained. His whole body felt as if it were carved out of fluid marble. It was incredible. Yet Angel restrained and withheld and contained this power. It was an impressive act of control and Giles had never appreciated it before. With Spike, however, Giles knew Angel could unleash his desires. With Spike, Angel could be free. He felt bold and risked a quiet question, 'new game?'

Spike hissed in pleasure. 'Yeah, new game.'

'Spike.' Giles could almost feel the dead heart of this stolen body beating in fear. '.I had my body stolen, in LA.'

Spike gave Giles an unreadable look. 'Yeah, I know, you told me.'

Giles closed his eyes, hoping he could recover well. 'I know I did.well, new game.I'm not me, I'm that old man in my body.'

Spike pursed his lips and wrinkled his nose a bit. 'Don't really fancy thinking of an old man inside you, Angel. Seems a bit.unnatural, even for a vampire.'

'Well, alright, who would you want to be in here?'

Spike suddenly perked up and showed a spark of interest in this game. 'Umm.Harris?'

'Xander Harris, surely not?'

'Two days ago, Angel, you claimed you'd had him over your car.'

Giles almost squeaked and covered by pretending to laugh. 'Err, not Xander. Someone else.'

'Oh, hey.Wesley?'

'No, certainly not, how unpleasant.'

'Angel, I think you've been in England too long. If I closed my eyes I could swear I had bloody Wesley in here with me now!'

'Not him. Choose again.' Giles was beginning to get rather peeved, that for all Spike's earlier protestations of affection for him, he had been rejected in favour of that ghastly teenager and the ponce, Wesley. 'What about Giles?' Damn it, if Spike couldn't get there, he'd bloody well prompt him.

'Giles.'

'Yes, Giles.'

'Giles inside you now.'

'Well, what do you think about that as a game?'

'You'd never be able to carry it off, you git. You couldn't do Giles to save your life. You'd be reaching for that poofy hair gel of yours before I'd even opened you up.'

'I would not and I think I could manage to impersonate one mild, intelligent Englishman.'

Spike seemed to find this unnecessarily funny, but suddenly lifted himself up and out of the bath, pulling Giles with him.

'Come on Giles, time to show you what you can do with your new, Angel body.'

*****